


Cleopatra

by dancer_of_the_hellfire_rumba



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Sam has a kid, bit of angst, but it's not the reader, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer_of_the_hellfire_rumba/pseuds/dancer_of_the_hellfire_rumba
Summary: Inspired by a Lumineers song called Cleopatra. I looked into the whole album's backstory and it broke my friggin' heart.





	Cleopatra

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Lumineers song called Cleopatra. I looked into the whole album's backstory and it broke my friggin' heart.

Sam's eyes are fixed distantly at the traffic because the girl in his back seat looks so much like  _her,_ he can’t standit. His heart hurts. Like, physical pain. So he lets his eyes get stuck on the black Sedan in front of him, reading over the license plate repeatedly like a broken record, as if, maybe, if the letters and numbers engrave themselves in his brain, they'll replace the images ofher. But, sadly he can’t help to glance back at the girl now and again and daydream of the first time  _she_  slid in the leather seat with a bright, thankful smile on her face. God, that girl is wearing similar colors as well. What could the chances possibly be? Same khaki jacket, same blue jeans, same red lipstick. He's usually alright, but the coincidences are just too many and, fuck, the traffic doesn't look to be moving soon enough. It seems this ride will never end.

He remembers wearing his all-black, cheaply lent suit, blurry eyes leaking tears. His arm was on the window, hand holding his head while the other white-knuckled the steering wheel, stuck in traffic as he is right now. Haunting images of the black, closed casket, images of his brother and small family gathered around dug out dirt, tears streaking down pale cheeks, images of fallen red roses on burried wood vividly egraining themselves in his brain like a hot metal rod pressed against skin. He was hurting back then too, mourning a loved one, until, all of a sudden someone knocked on the window.  It was a girl. Crap, he knew he shouldn’t have gone to the funeral in his damn  _taxi_. She pleaded a ride, promised her destination was close and begged some more until he said _fuck it_ and waved her inside. Better to shove down and ignore the pain rather than deal with it.

She slid in his taxi smoothly, thanking him repeatedly. He was in it for the long run from the second his bloodshot eyes met her cheeky smile in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know it yet, but he was, enamored by the way dimples formed beside her mouth, dazed by her eyes that were sprinkled with stardust and wonder. She made him laugh the same day he put his father in a casket and burried him six feet under.

He didn’t let her go like that, obviously. He’d be a fool to do so. Somewhere along the rush of reaching her destination, paying and getting out with a sweet wave, they exchanged numbers. The memories he created with her consisted of the most incredible, adventurous journey in his life. Cold nights under the stars, warm mornings of glowing smiles, shared breaths and smooth, carefree laughter.

It had all been wonderful. So,  _so_ wonderful and beautiful and strange and exciting and-

“Why the fancy suit?” The girl in the back asks him and he feels like he was hit by a bucket of cold water. He meets her eye in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows are raised in curiosity and genuine interest.

“Being a taxi driver isn’t my only job.” He shrugs with a friendly, slightly forced smile.

“And what else do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Shut up.” Sam chuckles at the disbelief in her tone. “Why the heck are you driving a taxi then?”

“Because… I love it.” The girl looks confused as ever. “I just…” Sam sighs heavily,  _her_ image popping in his head again. “I have a lot of memories in here. A lot of memories made, a lot of memories to _be_ made.” He runs a hand through his hair. “There’s just  _something_ about it.” The girl hums and for a little while the conversation dies down. His heart sinks.

_The mattress under him is rough, slightly hard and lacks frame. Not that he notices this, Y/n’s body fallen on top of him, comfortably wedged between his legs. Hands trailing up and down his body, ending up under his ear. Her thumb on his cheekbone, her right elbow beside his head,she’s kissing him, tuffs of hair tickling his forehead. Her waist is small compared to his huge paws and her hair soft between his fingers._

_She trails kisses right_ there _, under his jaw, outlines the columns of his neck in feather soft touches of her lips, before she’s pulling away. Sam’s eyes flutter open, drunk on her taste, eager to see her expression._

_“Let’s get married.” It fell from her tongue in a whisper and she has him under a spell with her surreal eyes. He’s lost, he can’t see anything but her._

_“Yeah.” he decides, high on her. Feeling utterly raw, ripped open, overstimulated by everything he has in him for her. “Let’s.”_

He’s teared up again. Dammit.

When did they arrive? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember. But the girl is thanking him and giving him his money, before she wishes him farewell.

The drive to the airport is short. Before he knows it, the door to the passenger seat is opening with an eager creak.

“Dad!”

“Hey, baby.” He grins, pulling his daughter in a hug and kissing the crown of her head. “How’re you doing?” She’s a spitting image of her mother and as they drive downtown, her hand in his on the joystick, light conversation is made. Bailey tells Sam of her adventures is art school, excited smile painted on her face.

“It’s so incredible dad, you don’t even know.” She tells him. “Shawn is wonderful too.” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“Shawn?” Bailey suppresses a grin.

“Shawn,” She confirms. “… My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Sam hides the teasing smirk that’s about to burst on his face.

“Stop looking at me like that!” Bailey slaps his shoulder, laughing mirthfully and Sam can’t help but do the same.

“Tell me about him. How'd you too meet?” He asks and she looks outside with a loose smile. She opens her mouth and starts going on and on about him, about their story, how well he treats her and how sweet he is and how she connects and relates to him. Sam can see the look in her eyes, can see the warmth in her smile. He recognizes it immediately.

“Dad…I…” She looks at him almost teary.

“You’re in love with him.” It’s a simple statement that hangs in the air. It takes some time for her to let the words sink in. She nods faintly, biting her lip.

“I really think I am.”

They spend their evening driving around and eating burgers on the side of an empty back road, sitting on the hood of the taxi while watching the last hues of orange and pink fade away from the sky.

Night falls and the lights of the car are reflected on the garage door of  _her_ house.

“I’ll see you, dad” Bailey steps up to him and wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt. Sam holds her tightly against him with his chin on her head and tightens his hold a little more when the front door opens and--there she is.

_“Y/n?”_   _he blinks tiredly in the darkness. The shuffling stops._

_“Go to sleep Sam, I’ll be right there.” Something in the croak of her voice makes him highly doubt that, even half asleep._

_“What’re you doing?” she’s… dressed. She’s dressed, mounting a backpack on her shoulder. She sighs dejectedly._

_“I’m leaving.”_

_“What do you mean you’re_ leaving _? Hang –hang on a second, Y/n, let’s talk about this-"_

_“That’s what we’re always_ doing, _Sam. I can’t do this life anymore, I can’t-“ she’s crying, he hadn’t realized it till now. “I can’t stay in the same place, I can’t settle, that’s not_ me _. It never was.”_

_“But- where are you going to go? What about- what about Bailey? What about us?!” He shoves the comforter off of him, pretending that he hadn’t seen this coming the second the words ‘I do’ came out of her mouth with a second of delay on that aisle. This is all going too fast._

_“I love you Sam, both of you. But I need to go.” She walks up to him, pulls his face in her hands and kisses him deeply, so deeply that he doesn’t know who’s breathing for who, kisses him breathless like it’s the last thing she has in her for him. Because it is. She’s gone like dissipating smoke._

Sam never washed the footprints her dirty, worn out boots left on the carpet on her way out the door.

The porch light illuminates her silhouette. She has cut her hair short, grey curls framing her face and she’s wearing jeans and a loose t-shirt like she’s twenty again. She’s still as beautiful as she was and maybe it’s his love for her, the love that never truly went away, that makes him look at her this way. But he forgives her. Forgives her and understands, even if it hurts like hell.

Bailey lifts the duffle from the cracked pavement, stepping away from her dad hesitantly. She smiles at him one last time, walking towards her mom, embracing her happily with a silent squeal. Sam watches with a small smile as Y/n ushers her daughter inside.

He opens the door to his taxi and before he can talk himself out of it, spares a glance her way. She gives him a small bittersweet smile and he nods her goodbye with a purse of his lips.

As she turns her back and goes inside, Sam is left still looking at the door. He looks on, picturing himself walking inside along them with an arm around her shoulders, until the porch light turns off, snapping him out of his trance. With a sigh, he steps back in his car and hesitates for another moment before starting up the engine, loud sigh echoing in the hollow emptiness of his car. He drives away, still glancing at the house through his rearview mirror, longingly, whishing for something that could never be. 


End file.
